Much Ado about Nutmeg

by Sarah Fox

  I wished I was safely at home with Brett, but that was pointless. Although, thinking of Brett helped to clear the haze of fear from my mind. With or without Pippa’s help, I had to keep Rowena from making me her next victim.

  She nodded toward Pippa, the spear gun still leveled at my chest. “Move.”

  The movement of the yacht made my shaky legs even less steady. I tried my best to climb slowly and carefully up toward the wheelhouse, not wanting to startle Rowena with any sudden or jerky movements. The small wheelhouse was crowded with three of us inside it. There was barely enough room for Rowena to keep the spear gun pointed at me.

  Pippa continued steering the boat. Although she kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, I noticed tears trickling down her face.

  “I can’t believe you killed Easton,” she said, barely above a whisper.

  “I didn’t!” Rowena sounded horrified by the accusation. She choked out a sob. “I never could have hurt him. It was that awful woman!”

  I broke the silence I’d kept for the past few minutes. “Yvonne? She killed your husband?”

  “Yes!” She glanced down at the weapon in her hands and seemed to reconsider. “In a way.”

  “Tell me what happened.” Despite her silent tears, Pippa’s voice was steady and not without compassion.

  Rowena’s gaze shifted her way before returning to me. “It all went wrong.” Her voice nearly broke. “Yvonne was supposed to be the only one to die. She didn’t deserve to live. Not after what she did to our Danny!”

  I wanted to know who Danny was, but I didn’t interrupt.

  “We told her we had a great story to share with her,” Rowena continued. “One she could write about for the Insider. We invited her to the yacht for cocktails and a chat. She never expected a ruse. It was easy to get some sedatives. Easton wrote me a prescription for one he used a lot in his dental practice, and we used the pills to spike Yvonne’s drink. That was meant to make it easy to kill her. She wasn’t supposed to fight back.”

  “You planned the murders,” I said, unable to hide my disgust.

  Pippa shot me a warning glance, so brief I almost missed it.

  “Only Yvonne’s,” Rowena protested, as if that made things less terrible.

  “And you pushed me into the street.” I knew that had to be true.

  “That was a warning. I kept an eye on you after all those questions you asked me at the coffee shop. If you hadn’t been so nosy, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

  I thought she was more to blame than I was, but I didn’t think it would be wise to say so. Instead, I tried to keep her talking about the murders.

  “Yvonne wasn’t seen on the marina’s security footage,” I said, remembering what Gillian had told me.

  “Yes, she was,” Rowena countered. “I went back to the yacht in the afternoon and waited there. Yvonne arrived with Easton later that night. Yvonne and I look fairly similar, so we were hoping she’d be mistaken for me on the security footage, especially in the poor lighting and in Easton’s company.”

  That must have been what had happened.

  “What about Jay?” I asked. “Why kill him?”

  “He read too many of Yvonne’s articles. He figured out we had a reason to want her dead. When he started insinuating that I was involved, I had to keep him quiet. So I set up a nighttime meeting with him at the school parking lot. I made him think I’d be willing to pay for his silence. He didn’t even know what hit him. I’ve always been a good shot.”

  My stomach churned at that statement and I tried not to stare at the spear gun. “Did you take the drugs yourself the other night?”

  “I wanted to make sure no one would suspect me. I figured the best way to do that was to make it look like I was meant to be another victim.”

  Pippa closed her eyes briefly. “What happened to Easton? He died in a fight with Yvonne?”

  “We tried to push her overboard, but she started fighting with Easton. I had to make her stop, so I used the spear gun.”

  I had trouble swallowing as I stared at the weapon trained on me. It had already been used to commit one murder. Rowena wouldn’t hesitate to use it again.

  “I thought she’d die right away,” Rowena continued. “But she didn’t. I pulled out the spear and then we shoved her overboard, but she grabbed on to Easton and he went over with her. I don’t know if he hit his head or what, but he never resurfaced.”

  A sob tore out of her body. The intense grief behind it would have affected me more if I hadn’t known she was a killer.

  “How am I supposed to go on without Easton?” Her body shook with sobs.

  If I was going to make a move, this was my chance. I might not get another one.

  I was about to throw myself toward the spear gun, hoping to knock it aside, when Pippa launched herself at Rowena. The spear gun clattered to the deck.

  “Run!” Pippa yelled at me.

  I scrambled over their bodies as they struggled in a heap. I clambered down to the deck below and then came to a halt. There was nowhere to run to.

  I had to help Pippa subdue Rowena so we could take the yacht back to the marina. I spun around, planning to return to the wheelhouse, but then I saw Rowena’s fist connect with Pippa’s jaw.

  “I’m sorry!” Rowena wailed.

  Pippa slumped down to the deck. I backed up a step and hit the railing behind me. I tugged my phone from my pocket, hoping I’d have reception.

  Rowena grabbed the spear gun.

  I was too far away to fight her for it, and I didn’t have time to use my phone.

  As she raised the weapon, I dropped my phone on the deck and did the only thing I could think of.

  I jumped overboard.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I gasped when I broke through to the surface, the chill of the water an unpleasant shock. The yacht was moving away from me, but it still wasn’t far off. I spotted Rowena on the deck.

  I sucked in as much air as I could and dove beneath the waves, terrified Rowena would try to shoot me with the spear. Kicking hard, I swam as far as possible before returning to the surface.

  The yacht had moved farther away. I blinked water out of my eyes, trying to spot Rowena. I couldn’t see anyone on the deck anymore. Maybe she’d given up on killing me.

  That thought brought me some relief, but it didn’t ease my anxiety entirely. I was out in the ocean, alone, and Rowena was getting away. I couldn’t do much about her at the moment, so I focused on saving myself.

  I was a decent swimmer, although my T-shirt and shorts hampered me more than a swimsuit would have. The shoreline wasn’t too far off, so I swam in that direction, hoping it wasn’t farther away than it appeared.

  After a few strokes, I paused and checked over my shoulder as I bobbed up and down on the waves. The yacht continued to grow smaller. I hoped Pippa was okay. Rowena had hurt her after saying she wouldn’t, but she’d seemed so distressed by punching her friend that I hoped she wouldn’t do anything worse.

  I resumed swimming, but I had to stop and rest after a few minutes, treading water while I tried not to panic. The shore didn’t seem any closer than it had when I started swimming.

  I thought of everyone I’d see when I reached land, especially Brett, Flapjack, and Bentley. I had to keep swimming if I wanted a chance to hug them all again.

  That spurred me onward. I swam and swam, and then paused for another rest.

  The low buzz of a motor reached my ears. I splashed around in a panic, thinking Rowena had turned the yacht this way and was coming to finish me off. But the sound came from a small speedboat zooming its way out from the marina.

  Hope exploded in my chest. I waved my arms and yelled for help.

  I feared the boat would speed right past me, but then the lone occupant steered my way and cut the motor.

  Help had arrived.
<
br />   * * * *

  The heat of the summer sun had never been more welcome. Charlie had brought me a blanket from the marina’s office to wrap around my shoulders, but the sun was proving to be the best antidote to the chill that had settled into my bones during my swim.

  Sheriff’s department cruisers lined the street by the office and curious onlookers had gathered on the sidewalk, trying to figure out what was going on. Brett was on his way, thanks to a phone call from Charlie. He’d made that call after contacting the Coast Guard and the sheriff’s department.

  Charlie was at the top of the ramp, looking out over the docks, when Rowena first pointed the spear gun at me. By the time the yacht had left the marina, he was already calling for help. Moments after my rescuer—a local fisherman—had hauled me from the water, the Coast Guard had closed in on Rowena and now its vessel was approaching the docks.

  I jumped up from the bench where I’d been sitting, letting the blanket fall from my shoulders. Despite Deputy Rutowski’s protests, I hurried down the ramp. By the time I reached the dock, a Coast Guard officer was handing a handcuffed Rowena over to Ray.

  Without any conscious thought, I backed away as Ray walked her in my direction. I couldn’t bear to get too close to her after everything that had transpired.

  When she spotted me, her face crumpled. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking.

  By the time the words were out of her mouth, Ray was escorting her up the ramp.

  My heart thudded so hard that it was almost painful, and only partly from coming so close to Rowena again.

  I rushed along the dock toward the Coast Guard vessel. Before I got there, I drew to a stop, relief weakening my legs. Deputy Devereaux stood at the end of the dock, helping Pippa down from the vessel.

  When she saw me, she rushed over and pulled me into a hug, unconcerned about the fact that I was soaking wet.

  “Thank God you’re all right!” she said.

  I hugged her back. “I was about to say the same about you.”

  “I’m so sorry for everything.”

  “None of it was your fault,” I said as I pulled back.

  She didn’t seem to hear me. “I should have known what was going on.”

  “How could you?”

  She wiped a tear from her cheek. A bruise had already formed on her jaw where Rowena had struck her. “It was all about Rowena and Easton’s son, Daniel. He died two years ago, drove off a bridge and into a river.”

  We walked slowly along the dock toward the ramp, where Rutowski stood, probably waiting for us.

  “What did that have to do with Yvonne?” I asked.

  “Daniel was a great tennis player,” Pippa explained. “He had a bright career ahead of him, but then he got banned from the sport for a year after a positive drug test. It was a mistake—something he took when he had a bad case of the flu. Yvonne wrote an article about him, making it seem like something more sinister, like he’d been deliberately cheating, possibly for a long time. Some people believed what they read. It crushed Daniel. He stopped training and became depressed. Nobody knows for sure if he drove off the bridge on purpose or if it was an accident. It could have been either.”

  “That’s terrible.” I couldn’t help but feel some compassion for Easton and Rowena, even after what they’d done. I knew all too well how painful it was to unexpectedly lose a loved one.

  “Daniel’s death left Rowena and Easton broken. I just never realized how broken. When they ran into Yvonne here in Wildwood Cove…”

  “They decided to take revenge,” I finished for her.

  And now three people were dead and Rowena would go to prison, probably for the rest of her life.

  My heart ached from all the devastation and sorrow.

  When we reached the top of the ramp, I saw Brett climbing out of his truck.

  Suddenly, my heart hurt a little less.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Butterflies had fluttered in my stomach all morning, but now they flitted through my entire bloodstream. I was excited, not nervous. I’d awakened earlier than usual, and the last few hours had ticked by so slowly that I’d thought this moment might never arrive.

  I smoothed down the skirt of my dress and checked my reflection in the bedroom’s cheval mirror one last time. My mom stood next to me, carefully wiping a single tear from her cheek with a tissue.

  “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

  “No crying,” I said, although I couldn’t make the words sound stern. I also couldn’t stop smiling. “Not yet.”

  She smiled too, her eyes still watery. “No guarantees.”

  She gave me a hug before making sure that every curly lock of my hair was in place, the seed pearl halo circling my head in exactly the right way.

  Lisa and Chloe had disappeared downstairs for a few minutes, but after a tap on the bedroom door, they both reappeared.

  “Everyone’s here,” Chloe announced.

  “It’s time,” Lisa added.

  I could practically see their happiness and excitement shimmering in the air around them. It was probably a fraction of what I was radiating.

  I gathered up my skirt so I wouldn’t trip on the stairs and followed my friends out of the bedroom. My mom held my elbow as we descended the stairway, making sure I didn’t lose my footing.

  As we entered the family room, I caught sight of the antique ship’s wheel on the wall and my smile brightened. Brett had loved his birthday present, and seeing it on display was a welcome reminder of the fact that this was our house now.

  Flapjack sat on the windowsill, his tail twitching. He had his amber eyes fixed on the world outside the window, but at the sound of our footsteps he looked our way. I paused to run a hand over his fur, receiving a contented purr in return. He’d watch the festivities from here, but Bentley was down on the beach with everyone else.

  Before stepping out through the French doors, I fingered the silver locket hanging around my neck. My mom had given it to me that morning. Inside the locket was a photo of my late stepsiblings. I’d almost broken my own rule about not crying when I’d seen it. I wished Charlotte and Dylan could have been there with me that day, but they were always in my heart.

  I drew in a deep breath as my mom took my arm. The butterflies inside of me increased their fluttering. I couldn’t wait any longer.

  My mom and I followed Lisa and Chloe outside and down from the back porch. We drew to a stop beneath the arbor with its bright sunflowers and greenery. A second later, Lisa and Chloe began the slow procession down to the beach.

  Everyone I loved most was present. Ahead of me, Brett waited in his suit and tie. When he saw me, the bright smile that lit up his face matched my own. Our eyes locked, and my butterflies gave one last whirl of excitement before settling, bringing me a sense of serenity.

  My mom stayed at my side. She was going to walk me down the beach to Brett.

  She squeezed my arm. “Ready, Marley?” she asked quietly.

  “Ready,” I said.

  Then I took the first step toward the rest of my life.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to extend my sincere thanks to several people whose hard work and input made this book what it is today. I’m forever grateful to my agent, Jessica Faust, for helping me bring this series to life, and to my editors at Kensington, Martin Biro and Elizabeth May, for all their advice and guidance. I’m also grateful to Samantha McVeigh and the rest of the Kensington team for all their hard work. Thank you to Sarah Blair for always reading my early drafts and cheering me on, and to Jody Holford for providing feedback and being such an enthusiastic Marley and Brett fan. Last but not least, thank you to the Cozy Mystery Crew, my review crew, and all my wonderful friends in the writing community.

  Recipes

  Belgian Waffles with Strawberry Syrup

  Strawberr
y Syrup

  2 cups strawberries, diced

  ½ cup water

  ½ cup sugar

  1 tablespoon lemon juice

  Place the diced strawberries in a medium saucepan. Add the water, sugar, and lemon juice and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally. Reduce to medium-low heat and simmer for approximately 10 minutes, until the strawberries are soft and the syrup has thickened. Refrigerate until ready to use.

  Waffles

  2 eggs

  2 cups all-purpose flour

  2 tablespoons sugar

  3-1/2 teaspoons baking powder

  1-3/4 cups milk

  1/2 cup vegetable oil

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  Separate the egg yolks and egg whites into two mixing bowls. With a hand mixer, beat the egg whites until they form stiff peaks. Set aside.

  Sift the dry ingredients into a large mixing bowl.

  In a separate bowl, add the milk, oil, and vanilla to the egg yolks and mix well. Add this mixture to the dry ingredients and mix just until combined. Gently fold in the egg whites.

  Cook according to waffle iron’s instructions. Top with strawberry syrup and serve. Serves 4.

  Apple Cinnamon Scones

  with Maple Glaze

  2 cups all-purpose flour

  1/3 cup sugar

  1 tablespoon baking powder

  2 teaspoons cinnamon

  6 tablespoons unsalted butter

  1 cup apples, chopped (I use Granny Smith)

  1 egg

  1 cup cream

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  Preheat oven to 400°F.

  In a large bowl, mix together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and cinnamon. Cut the butter into small pieces and cut it into the dry ingredients with a pastry cutter or fork until it resembles coarse oatmeal. Mix in the chopped apple.

  In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg, cream, and vanilla. Stir into dry ingredients.